


Unicorn Hunter

by Greysgate



Category: Angel: the Series
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-10
Updated: 2018-05-10
Packaged: 2019-05-04 23:45:01
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,242
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14604378
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Greysgate/pseuds/Greysgate
Summary: Wesley finds a new girlfriend and ally, but is she truly what she seems?





	Unicorn Hunter

**Author's Note:**

> Published under the name Victoria Rivers in May 2000

Wesley loved the smell of the Apothecary Shoppe. There was the inevitable scent of dust and age that came with old buildings, which reminded him of England, but mixed with it were the perfumes of herbs and dried flowers, green things and fertile earth that filled his head with images of gardens and sunshine. And the woman behind the counter was another reason he enjoyed the place. 

She only worked there in the afternoons, but he had learned from his many visits to the shop that she was the resident herbalist. She had a source in the city, the shop owner told him, to ensure that the fresh herbs were just that, and that the dried ones were of the best quality. 

Her name was Evangeline Deer. 

His first impression of her was that her ancestry was Native American. She wore a porcupine quill necklace that enhanced that notion, though her long hair was light brown, paler where it surrounded her face and with thick platinum blonde bangs, her eyes as green as a pine forest. Her complexion was honey-gold and clear, with high cheekbones and a slightly aquiline nose that spoke eloquently of her tribal heritage. 

He thought she was beautiful. But unlike most attractive women, he found her easy to talk with, knowledgeable about her craft, and patient with his often bizarre requests. There was something warm and sweet about her that drew him, and eventually he found himself asking her to join him for tea at a bistro down the street from the shop. 

She agreed. After disappearing into the back to inform the shop owner where she would be, Evangeline came out from behind the counter, linked her arm with his, and allowed him to escort her down the sidewalk to the café. They sat at a table on the patio and placed their order.

 The waiter came with their teas and pastries and went with their empty dishes, and the couple became so engrossed in conversation about gardening that neither of them noticed the sprinkle of rain that began to fall. They sat at their table, eyes locked together as they talked and ate, while every other patron and employee moved quickly inside out of the weather.

 The shower didn't last long, but Wesley and his companion spent more than two hours at their table, lost in each other's merest glance or gesture. Time had no meaning for either of them, and he paid the bill out of habit rather than realization that it had come. Eventually he rose and escorted her out, strolling slowly back toward the shop, unwilling to end the pleasant afternoon in her company.

 As he walked her back into the store, she took his hands in hers and gave them a squeeze, smiling radiantly up into his eyes.

 "I must see you again," he told her. "Dinner, perhaps?" 

"Yes," Evangeline agreed. "I enjoy your company, Wesley. I'd love to spend more time with you." 

"Dinner, then. Eight o'clock? What kind of food do you like?" 

"I'm a vegetarian. Someplace with a good salad would be nice." 

"I'll find one, then," he promised, squeezed her hands and tore himself away. He wanted to kiss her, but it was too soon. This one was special; he could feel it. 

He was preoccupied when he returned late to the office, and earned a glare from the taciturn vampire while Cordelia grilled him about his date. Wesley didn't say too much, and returned to his work to avoid more questions. There would be plenty of time for words later, but at the moment his relationship with the herbalist was too new, too fragile for much description. 

For weeks he spent every spare moment with her, eagerly letting her distract him from his work, and humming as he sat at his desk deciphering old tomes and researching demons. He retrieved his focus when there were actual battles to be fought, but after each crisis was over, his first thought was always of her. And in time, he realized that his feelings for her were heading in a certain direction. He owed it to her to tell her what he did for a living, to bring her in to meet the others. They were not only family; the vampire who paid his salary was also his proof that the things he would be telling her were true.

 It was important to him for her to believe. 

But the night he chose for his revelation went awry, and he didn't have time to phone her and break their date. He and Angel were hot on the trail of a Chumash demon, wakened from its long sleep by an unknown event. Its origin was clear in the clothing it wore -- obviously something tribal and old, but they didn't know enough about it to kill it, and after a fierce battle, the creature got away. 

Wesley was only slightly bruised after having been thrown against a wall, but Angel was bleeding in a variety of places and would need some patching up before dawn, which was coming sooner than he would be able to get them home. The Englishman saw a familiar address and wheeled into the rear parking, remanding Angel to the car while he went in to see if Evangeline would admit them to the warehouse that contained her garden. That was where they had been scheduled to meet for dinner the night before, and Wesley was sure she was angry at him for not having called. But he was also sure that she was kind-hearted enough to see that an emergency had taken precedence, and that her forgiveness would follow. 

He pushed the buzzer on the intercom at the bay door facing the parking lot and hoped she was still there. She had told him that she often worked nights there, sleeping at her apartment during the heat of the day and coming into the shop in the afternoons. He saw the sky lightening at the horizon and Angel's body slumped in the seat, and prayed. 

"Yes, who is it?" came her voice over the speaker. 

"Evangeline, it's Wesley. I have an emergency. Can you let us in, please?" 

Silence for a moment. 

"My employer has been in an accident. He's injured and I need to get him inside right away. Please, it's urgent!"

There was acceptance in her voice. "All right. I'll come to the door in a minute."  
  
"Can you raise the bay door instead? I can drive us right inside, if the dock is clear." 

Seconds later the big metal door began to roll upward, and Wesley leaped into the car, threw it into gear and rushed into the apparently empty warehouse. The door came down again just as the sun broached the horizon behind them. He heaved a sigh of relief and took stock of Angel's condition.

 "How are you feeling?" 

Angel rolled his dark, pain-filled eyes and snarled, "Just peachy. How 'bout you, Wes?" 

"We'll have you more comfortable in short order. Let me just get Evangeline, and find out where we can bring you inside. Sit tight, and I'll be right back." 

But he barely made it out of the car when she rushed into the bay, her face pale, her expression worried. "Wesley, are you all right? When you didn't show up last night, I--" 

Her eyes strayed to the other figure in the car and her words cut off in a hiss of recognition. She backed up, her eyes wide with fright and instant hatred. "Vampire!" she spat. "You've brought a vampire inside!" 

"It's all right, Evangeline," he promised, reaching for her. 

She leaped backward to keep him from touching her, her eyes accusing, suspicious. "No, it's not all right! You have laid me open to--" 

"He has a soul. He won't hurt you, I swear. And neither will I." He held out his hands toward her, palm up. There was a smear of blood on his right, where he had dragged Angel into the car. Angel's blood. 

She shrank back from him still, but her fear seemed somewhat diminished by his assurances. "I can see the demon struggling in him," she told him softly. "I see how he fights it. But he is still undead. He has no place here." 

"He just needs a place to rest until sunset," Wesley pleaded, and tucked the bloodied hand behind him. "Please, Evangeline. He's my friend, and a warrior for the Light, though he cannot walk in it himself." 

That seemed to calm her, but her expression did not clear. "He won't like me," she whispered, edging closer at last. "The demon will want…" She sighed, and her shoulders sagged. "I will prepare a place for him and then come for you. But I can't touch him." 

"Right," Wesley returned, too relieved to have gained her acceptance to question her at the moment. "We'll be waiting."

 Moments later, Wesley had Angel's arm pulled across his shoulders, supporting the bigger, heavier man as they stumbled along in her wake. The Englishman was unsteady beneath his burden, but when she took them through a door into a darkened room he tripped on the uneven surface suddenly beneath his feet and they fell. Angel reached out to catch himself and brushed against her arm on his way down. 

When he hit the ground he rolled away and leaped to his feet instantly, snarling and savage, the demon inside him glaring at her with yellow eyes out of a twisted face. 

"Angel!" Wesley shouted. "What's the matter with you?" He stepped between Angel and Evangeline, glaring at the vampire's obvious display of hatred. 

"What is that?" he demanded, pointing at the woman behind Wesley. 

"This is my girlfriend, Evangeline," the Englishman snapped back. "She's the one I've been telling you about. Heavens, whatever has gotten you so agitated?" 

Angel's weakened condition made his face relax, his eyes darken as the demon retreated back into the shadows of his soul. He stumbled and went down on one knee. "I don't know what she is, but she's not a woman, Wes. I can smell it. She's… I don't know. But she makes me crazy." 

He was not going to get up again without help, and Wesley turned to regard her, unsettled now, sure that Angel wasn't just unhinged by his encounter earlier with the Chumash demon. 

"Let me get him settled, Evangeline, and then I think we need to talk," he advised her. 

She nodded and went out the same door they had just entered, giving Angel a wide berth. 

Wesley could see from the light coming in the doorway that they were on a flagstone entryway. Farther ahead were potted trees on a spongy, gentle slope covered with evergreen needles. The ground was warm and would make a good bed, and the freshness of the air was invigorating. He helped Angel farther toward the slope, made him as comfortable as possible and promised to return in a little while with blankets, bandages and sustenance for him. 

Angel's weariness propelled him quickly toward sleep, but as Wesley started to stand the vampire clutched at his sleeve. 

"She's not human, Wes," he rasped. "She's not evil, either. I don't know what she is, but there's magic pouring off her like you wouldn't believe. And I can feel… She wanted to kill me. Be careful with her. She could break your heart or steal your soul, neither one of which I'd take kindly to. Remember that. I won't have you hurt." 

Wesley patted Angel's hand affectionately. "I'll keep that in mind. Now you get some rest. I'll be back to finish patching you up soon." 

He took off his jacket and draped it over the already sleeping vampire for warmth, then left to seek out the Being he had come to love.  

She was waiting down the hall. He closed the door to Angel's garden room before speaking, wanting desperately to be gentle and tactful in his questioning of her. He wanted her to know how he felt about her, what she meant to him, but he also wanted to know the truth. 

"Well, I suppose I don't have to worry about whether or not you'll believe me anymore," he began softly. "I was worried you'd think I was crackers when I told you who I worked for." He sighed. "Only now I see that isn't a problem. Do you want to tell me what that was all about?"

 Evangeline looked distinctly uncomfortable, her gaze returning often to the door behind which the vampire lay sleeping. 

"He fights for Good?" 

"Every night. He was wounded tonight fighting a Chumash demon, only we didn't have enough information to be successful. He'll try to vanquish it again tonight." 

Evangeline's eyes moved straight to meet with his, and distrust became worry. "Chumash? What was it like?" 

"Broad and squat, nearly twice his size, covered in long black hair, with a hole in the middle of its forehead, outlined in red. Its clothing--" 

_"Wah-shinaga,"_ she breathed, and lowered her gaze to the floor. "It's called a _wah-shinaga._ And I know what it wants." 

"Do you know how to fight it?" 

She nodded. "I know how. But I'm not sure I can." 

"Then let us do the fighting, Evangeline. Just tell us how to kill it. What does it want? Where will we find it tomorrow?" 

"You'll find it here, after dark. It's coming for me." 

Wesley felt his mouth drop open, and closed it quickly. He reached for her, took her upper arms in a gentle but stern grip and forced her to make eye contact again. "Why does it want you?" 

She swallowed hard and tried to smile. Her hands came up to his and pried his fingers off her. She took one of his hands in hers and turned away, leading him down the corridor to another door on the far end of the warehouse. 

"My people are few now," she said softly as they walked. "But the world needs us now, more than ever. We have much to do, and without us…" 

"Your people?" 

"There are many names for us all over the planet. Every culture has a legend about us. In Asia, we are _kirin._ In the Americas, we are the Deer People. In Europe, you know us by another name, in another form. But we are always attracted to the same sort of person, ones who can capture our hearts and help us to survive. Or deliver us up to evil." 

Wesley stopped walking. He let go of her hand, certain the reference she intimated was just there, on the tip of his brain, but he couldn't quite draw it out. 

She opened the door in front of her. "How long has it been since you were home, Wesley?" she asked, and stepped inside. There also, a flagstone path began, and beyond that he could see a vast expanse of green. Bright sunlight poured into the hallway, and it drew him like a lodestone. His left hand gripped the door frame as he stepped over the threshold, but he could tell by the smell what lay on the other side. That scent could only come from one place. 

_England._  

This was the West Country, rolling hills dotted with stands of old forest, freshened with breezes straight off the sea. What he saw was impossible, but it was there right in front of his eyes, assaulting all his senses with the reality of its presence. He was standing in a doorway to his homeland. 

She was moving off, strolling away from him on a slope of tall grass dotted with heather and gorse around outcroppings of shale. Not far off was a stand of trees, great oaks mixed with a few birches, and he could not stop himself from following. A few feet away he looked back and saw the door still open into the hallway, but the door hung in the middle of the vista without the support of a wall of any kind. 

His heart was racing. His body ached from the abuse of the night, but he didn't feel it anymore. He couldn't feel anything except wonder, dread and awe in such quantities that coherent thought was impossible. 

He tried to keep up, but she seemed to stay just ahead of him. When the reached the trees, she disappeared behind one, and when he ran to keep her in sight, she was gone. "Evangeline!" he called. "Where are you?" 

He dashed into the woods, racing toward any sound that might have been made by her. And realized after a few moments that he was lost. "Evangeline, don't leave me here!" 

Carefully now, he glanced at the ground for signs of footprints, but found only his own. With some effort he followed them back toward the edge of the trees and sighed with relief when he spotted the doorway off in the distance, still open and beckoning him back. He took a deep breath, fighting the panic down a little, and turned back to the woods to call her once more. 

He saw a flash of movement behind a tree, and a pale shape stepped out into the glow of a sunbeam slicing through the gloom beneath the thick canopy of leaves. He stared, his mind blanked out by what he saw looking back at him, the beauty of its form touching deeply spiritual places inside him as he gazed back into those haunted, haunting eyes.  

It came forward slowly on long, delicate legs ending in cloven hooves, feathered with soft, flowing hair around the fetlocks. Its body was slender but muscular, covered in short tan fur, lighter on the undersides, legs and face. Down the back of its neck lay a fall of long hair, not exactly a mane, but loose and rooted to the back of the creature's lovely head. There was something doe-like about its face, not horsey at all as the legends indicated, and beneath its chin lay a short beard of white hair. The eyes, he noticed, were green as the forest, and highly expressive. He could see hesitation in them, and fear, and hope. 

He wandered closer, no longer caring about the door behind him or finding his way back. His hands came up on their own without the prompting of conscious thought, and she stood still as he touched her, his hands on her broad cheeks, smoothing back into the long hair spilling down her neck. He swept off his glasses and buried his face against her neck, belief and gratitude burning a hole in his soul. 

Hot tears poured down his cheeks. "Why me?" he whispered against her hide. "I'm hardly an innocent. I've done nothing to deserve such an honor as this. I've been more of a screw-up all my life…" 

The creature stepped back from him, shook her head and leaped nimbly to one side. She danced lightly on her hind legs, front hooves pawing the air, the crystal obelisk protruding from her forehead flashing with reflected light as she moved. She whirled around, and as she completed the circle her form changed from four legs to two. Evangeline shook her head, and beneath her bangs a crystal _bindi_ caught the light and then was hidden again by the thick fall of her hair. 

"You are the one I have been searching for," she assured him. "It isn't virginity that draws us, Wesley. We seek out the pure of _heart_ to give us what we need, and I have seen yours. I know who you are, underneath who you are trying to be. I can only hope that, now that you know what I am, you will still want me in your life." 

He dropped to his knees, his arms sliding around her hips, and pressed his cheek against her flat belly. "How can you even imagine I _wouldn't_ want you, Evangeline? I've been looking for you all my life, too afraid to hope you might be real. With all the horrors and evil magic that I come in contact with daily, I dared not hope the legends about unicorns might also be true."

 "Yes," she whispered, smiling. "I know. And I have always been there, in your dreams."

 She leaned down to him and kissed his forehead, holding his face in her hands. He rose, weariness making him stumble a little, and took possession of her lips, letting go of his reserve and giving free rein to his desire. They made love in the forest on a carpet of moss throughout the entire afternoon, and when they were sated, they bathed in a cool spring deeper in the trees and dressed to return back through the door to LA. 

"What do we do now?" she asked him as she closed the door. 

"I need to see to Angel," he answered with a twinge of guilt, knowing he should have done that hours ago. "Where did you put him, by the way?" 

Evangeline smiled. "On the other side of the world, in Tian Shan, China. It's the middle of the night there." Her good humor vanished. "He won't feed on anyone who wanders by, will he?" 

Wesley assured her he would not.  

She nodded. "Then let me help you see to your friend. I still can't touch him, but I can carry water to wash his wounds, and bandages and blankets. I can tell how much you believe in him, and am compelled to feel the same, against all my instincts." 

Wesley went with her to gather all the things they would need. "Do your kind normally kill vampires? He seemed to think you did." 

She nodded. "We were the first of the demon-slayers. We made this world safe for humanity, but more of our energies are directed toward creation rather than destruction, so we gave a little of our magic to one of your kind, that you might have a warrior of your own to fight the demons for you." 

"You created the Slayers?" 

Evangeline touched his cheek fondly. "And later, when we saw how wild and unpredictable they were, we taught you how to watch and train them, that they might last a little longer in the fight." 

He sighed. "A task at which I failed miserably." 

"No, Wesley." She took his hand and walked with him to another door, this one into a storage room with a variety of household goods, including a first-aid kit. "Your talents were needed elsewhere, and so things happened to bring you here, for Angel." She beamed. "And for me." 

He frowned, thinking about that. Was it possible that she might be right, that The Powers That Be had engineered things in order to make him fail with Buffy and Faith, to drive him out of the Watchers and make him doubt himself, bring him down far enough that he would put his pride aside and fall in with someone he once considered an enemy? Had he still been an official Watcher in the good graces of the council, he certainly never would have aligned himself with Angel. And he knew that Angel needed him, needed his expertise in research, needed him as backup, needed him to deflect Cordelia's good intentions on occasion. And Cordelia certainly needed him, as well. They had become a family, depending on one another, all because of his dismal failure as a Watcher.  

He had been a good Watcher. He was sure of that, in his heart. And he was stronger now, more sure of himself, than he had ever been before in his life. All because he had been cast out of the only place he had ever wanted to succeed. 

That put his situation in a whole new light.  

He was conscious of her presence while he tended Angel's wounds, made his bed and explained what he had learned from Evangeline about the demon. They discussed strategies, many of which used Evangeline for bait, though Wesley was adamant about not doing it that way. But in the end, each of them knew that the _wah-shinaga_ would be coming to wherever she was, and that the only way to kill it was with her cooperation. They would just have to make sure that the demon never made contact with her, or she would be lost. 

The day came and went, and after a few hours’ rest, Wesley left to find appropriate weaponry and to check in with Cordelia. Angel left the garden and wandered back into the warehouse, opening doors at random to search for his hostess. He found her in the Rockies, where the sun had already set, and the air was fresh and clean. 

“I was hoping we’d have a chance to talk alone,” he said, slipping his hands into his trouser pockets. He could feel her agitation, and the identical response of the restless demon in his soul. Her purity annoyed him, but he could sense the goodness in her. And Wesley’s scent was all over her. 

“This isn’t going to come out well, is it?” he asked bluntly. “There’s something you haven’t told us.”

 She was kneeling beside a granite outcropping, harvesting maidenhair ferns, putting the whole plants into a small wicker basket in her lap. The woman raised her eyes to meet his. “No. It is not.” 

“Have you been planning to dump Wesley, now that you’ve got what you came for? You were looking for a mate, weren’t you? Nice little one-night stand, propagate the species, that sort of thing, and leave Wesley broken hearted and wondering what the hell he did wrong?” 

She shook her head, her eyes liquid and sad. “No. I want to stay with him. I love him. Can you understand that, demon? Do you know what love is?”

 Angel’s eyes narrowed slightly. “Yeah. I do. And I know what it does to people when they lose it.”

 Evangeline set aside her basket and rose, dusted the dirt from her skirt and straightened. She took a step closer to the vampire. “I had not considered that my love for Wesley would waken the _wah-shinaga._ But it has, and now I have no choice in the matter. We both know how it will end. Will you help him heal, when I am gone?” 

“You already know the answer to that.” 

In the blink of an eye, she changed. The tiny crystal on her forehead winked under the starlight, but her pale body seemed to glow with luminescence all its own. She was breathtaking, had he any breath to lose. 

With fluid grace, she bent her neck to him and went down on one knee at his feet. It was a gesture of homage, one he did not expect, and the honor pierced his dead heart with unexpected emotion. She rose and cocked her pretty head to gaze at him with her left eye. 

“In this form, I can see things more clearly,” she said, enunciating with great difficulty. “And I offer you a gift.” Slowly, very slowly, she came forward until she was right in front of him. “Open your shirt.” 

Without knowing why, he complied. He had no idea what to expect. But he knew it would be something good. 

The creature’s crystal horn touched him on the chest, the sharp point pressing into his flesh just enough to break the skin. A single drop of blood pooled around the puncture, and the Being withdrew. Instantly she returned to her human form, grasped the sleeve of her dress and wiped his blood off the crystal dot on her forehead before it touched her skin. She was panting, obviously distraught at the contact, but after a few moments she managed to compose herself. 

“What did you do?” he asked. “I don’t feel any different.” 

She shook her head, unable to meet his eyes, unable to look at him. Her hands were shaking as she bent to pick up her basket. “It is a seed,” she breathed. “You won’t feel it for some time to come. But it will be there when you need it most.” 

A single tear streaked down her cheek and fell to the ground. For some reason, his gaze went with it, and there in the grass where it had fallen, a flower sprang up, full-grown and blooming. Its white petals nodded in the breeze, showing off the crimson heart deep inside the blossom.  

“So what’s going to happen tonight when the _wah-shinaga_ comes, Evangeline?” His voice was gentle. He sensed her distress, and knew that the feelings behind it ran deep. 

“You are a strong warrior,” she said, and sniffed. “I have felt—“ She grimaced, and raised her eyes to his. “So much pain in you. Yet still you fight, offering yourself to protect others.” 

“I already know all that,” he said impatiently. “What about the _wah-shinaga?_ What didn’t you tell us?” 

“You need Wesley to help you in these battles,” she went on, her voice shaky. “You and he must be on the same side of the door when the _wah-shinaga_ opens it. I will be on the other. You must kill the demon while it is in the doorway. That is when it will be vulnerable.” 

“Okay. And then what happens?” 

“Then I will be safe.” 

There was such heartbreak in her eyes that he understood immediately. He wanted to touch her, to soothe her somehow and tell her that it would be all right. But he knew the words would be a lie, and any comfort he might offer would only hurt her more. So he just nodded and went back out the door to wait for Wesley. 

As soon as the Englishman arrived, Angel sent him to Evangeline, wanting to give them just a little more time to say good-bye. 

But hot on Wesley’s trail, the _wah-shinaga_ raced into the warehouse from the covering darkness outside, and Angel rushed into battle alone. 

_Better this way_ , he told himself as he grappled with the big nasty brute. _I can kill it in the doorway, and leave them together._  

The beast raked its talons across his chest, cutting his clothes and his flesh to ribbons. An unwilling cry of pain tore loose from him, followed quickly by the sound of a door flying open and crashing against a wall somewhere behind him. He heard the Englishman call him, heard his footsteps as Wesley raced across the room toward him. 

“Wesley, go back!” Angel shouted. “Stay with Evangeline!” 

“Duck!” Wesley commanded. 

Angel did. An iron crossbow bolt hit the _wah-shinaga_ dead in the center of its chest, and it howled in rage and pain, but took another swipe at Angel’s head, undaunted.  

The vampire came up again, wrenched the bolt out of the creature’s body and used it to slash at its face. It flung him aside and made a beeline for the doorway where Evangeline stood, trembling. She stepped backward, her form reshaping into a four-legged stance. Wesley fitted another bolt into the crossbow, keeping his body between the _wah-shinaga_ and the door, but it simply brushed him aside as if he wasn’t even there, and kept going. 

Angel rose and raced after it, the short iron bar still clutched in his right hand. He flung himself onto its back, left arm around its thick neck, and just as one of its ponderous feet crossed the threshold, he plunged the metal shaft into the red-rimmed hole in its forehead with every ounce of his strength. 

The universe exploded with light, but in utter silence. Angel lost his grip completely, the force of the inaudible blast projecting him backward into the loading bay, against the car with a resounding crack as several of his ribs snapped. He did not try to get up again, his eyes riveted on the scene straight ahead.

 The light was pouring quickly into the door, as if being sucked inside by a black hole. As the last of it was pulled inside, the door slammed shut as well. His ears were ringing, though he knew there had been no sound during the event other than the death-cry of the _wah-shinaga_ as it sealed the door. 

Wesley ran toward it, pulling on the handle with all his strength, calling out to Evangeline to answer him. 

There was only silence, and the sound of his breathing. 

The vampire hauled his broken body upright, forcing his feet to work against the pain of his injuries. He waited until Wesley had exhausted himself attempting to open the door, waiting until he knew the other man would listen. And then he spoke, softly, choosing his words carefully. “She’s all right, Wes. The _wah-shinaga_ didn’t get her.” 

Blue eyes met brown ones. “How do you know?” he panted, his voice tight with emotion. “It could have—“ 

“It didn’t,” Angel assured him. “That’s what sealed the door. That’s why she can’t come back through, why you can’t go to her. It was the only place we could kill it. The only way to save her. She told me so while you were gone.” 

Wesley seemed to crumple a little then, as if he had been struck a blow in the midsection. He staggered back against the wall, struggling against the emotions threatening to overwhelm him. “But I love her, Angel,” he whispered. “I have to find her again.” 

For a long time Angel just stood there, watching the tears roll unchecked down Wesley’s cheeks as he grieved for his lost love. 

“I hope you do, my friend.” 

Wesley pushed himself away from the wall. He ran down the hallway toward the doorway to home and wrenched it open. Inside it was dark, but one step over the threshold and he knew instinctively that the magic place was gone. His shoe sole touched down on smooth concrete, and the smell of engine oil and metal bit into his nostrils. He stepped back out and slammed the door shut. 

“Time to go,” he growled, and headed for the car with Angel slowly bringing up the rear. 

The vampire didn’t particularly want a man so emotionally charged driving him home, but he didn’t think he was capable of it himself just then. He climbed into the passenger seat and recalled the scene in detail, the Rocky Mountain garden where Evangeline Deer had made her last stand. He had been there earlier beneath a half moon, watching her pick her basketful of herbs while she waited for life alone or death at the hands of the Unicorn Hunter, the _wah-shinaga_. 

He knew that Wesley would look for the woman he loved forever, dreaming she would be waiting for him in the woodlands of some other place, far across the globe. 

But impressed into the earth by her basket had been a three-toed footprint, fresh and bold in the soft earth, that told him more than she had. The gardens that she tended so faithfully were not only a _where_ but also a _when_ , and the place where she was marooned was lost eons ago in time. Even her magic could not open the door back to where they were now. She was long gone, destined to live her life in search of others of her own kind, with no companion other than the child she would bear for the man she loved, until her quest to find the Deer People was at an end. 

He would spare Wesley that, knowing it would only hurt him more if he knew that Evangeline carried his child. Angel could tell the difference in her scent. He had enough experience over the centuries to know when the body chemistry changed. Later on, after his wounds had healed, he took the pastels that Cordelia had given him as a gift and drew a picture, had it framed, and left it on Wesley’s desk.

The Englishman didn’t work that day. He didn’t speak to anyone, just sat at his desk, staring at the drawing on the wall. He left without a word, and when Angel returned to work the next morning, there was a brief, formal note of thanks on his desk. He passed by the door to Wesley’s office and found him sitting where he should be, pouring over some dusty text he was deciphering. The world was spinning again as it should, and things would be all right, after a fashion. 

Angel’s eyes flashed up to the drawing for a moment. It was a forest scene, embroidered in lush greens. Seated on a stone was a beautiful young woman with fawn colored hair and green eyes, smiling down at the beast that had its head in her lap. The creature looked something like a cross between a deer and a horse, with features of neither, most outstanding of which was the crystal obelisk extending from its forehead. 

He had wanted to preserve both images for Wesley. But he knew that neither of them would ever forget the sight of her in her animal form. Few people were ever blessed with such a vision. 

He and Wesley had been touched by a Unicorn, and that was rarer still. His hand moved up to settle on the place over his heart where she had pierced him so gently, and wondered what her gift to him might be. But above all things, he was a patient soul. 

He would wait and see. 

 

FIN


End file.
